“That asshat,” Riley muttered, as she did whenever the name of Grace’s ex came up.

“—and it was totally a fumbling, can’t-get-the-condom-wrapper-open, not-enough-lubrication disaster.”

“Yeah, that’s about how my situation went,” Riley confirmed.

“You were amateurs. Give yourself a break.”

“I can give my twenty-year-old self a break,” Riley said. “But my twenty-eight-year-old self? No excuse.”

“Well, you must have your reasons for waiting,” Grace said gently.

“Not any good reasons!” Riley said, her voice coming out in a screech. She took a bite of pasta to calm herself.

“The real problem is why I slept with Dan in the first place. See, Christmas break of my sophomore year, Dan’s parents were off in Australia visiting his sister, who was studying abroad, so he came home with me.”

“You did it at your parents’ house? How has that not been a story topic yet?”

“Actually it has,” Riley said, thinking back to a short piece she’d done a couple of years earlier. “I just didn’t base it on personal experience. Hell, as you guys now know, none of it’s based on my sexual experiences … But anyway, no, we didn’t do it until we got back to campus after break.”

“Okay …,” Grace said, winding her fork into a careful twirl of noodles. “So what was the catalyst? You don’t exactly sound smitten with this poor guy.”

“Oh, I was smitten all right,” Riley muttered. “Just not with Dan.”

Julie put the pieces together almost immediately. “Sam was there. At your parents’ house at Christmas.”

“Sam was there,” she said, meeting her friends’ eyes. “So was his new wife.”

“Sam was married?” Grace said. “How did I not know that?”

“Because it was over in a hot minute. Just a spontaneous oopsie that ended in a dramafree divorce. But that Christmas break when I went home with my first serious boyfriend, half convinced that it would force Sam to see me as a grown-up, he was very much married.”

“Oh, Ri,” Julie said, setting her plate aside. “That’s why you slept with Dan?”

“Well, I didn’t let myself acknowledge the reason at the time. I told myself that he was sweet and kind, and fairly good-looking, and why not, you know? But when I’m really honest with myself …”

“It always comes back to Sam,” Emma finished for her.

“Exactly.”

She went on to explain how she’d half stalked him at the distillery, then played the jealousy card with Brent to spur him into action. She told them about the kiss at her parents’ and the kiss at the bar …

She told them everything up until the door of the hotel room, which is when she felt herself blush and realized that talking about sex in general terms is a hell of a lot easier than talking about sex in personal terms.

And she definitely didn’t tell them about Sam’s outburst about not being good for anyone. It was simply too untrue to voice to anyone. Even her best friends.

“He must have balls of steel if he walked out,” Emma said. “It’s obvious to everyone on the eastern seaboard that he wants you as much as you want him.”

“Obviously not,” Riley said as she rummaged through the delivery bag in search of tiramisu. “And I don’t blame him for not wanting to see things through that night. If I’d found out my mom was in the hospital, I’d be a wreck. But I guess I thought—hoped—that he might have stayed. You know, just to cuddle. Or whatever.”

She broke off on this last part, embarrassed by the admission, and Julie squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“It’s okay to feel, Riley.”

Easy for Julie to say. Julie had someone who loved her back. Riley was terrified that if she opened up those floodgates, she’d turn into one of those needy women who puts her life on hold because she’s smitten with a man.

And Riley was smitten with a man.

She just didn’t want to be.

Then Emma tilted her head and brought the subject back to the elephant in the room. “How is it that you haven’t gotten laid at all since that night in college? I mean, Sam’s sexy and everything, but I don’t know that any guy’s worth being celibate for.”

“Well, it hasn’t been entirely intentional,” Riley muttered. “But you know how when you first meet someone and forget their name … and then you run into them again and don’t want to admit that you don’t know their name, so you don’t ask? And then by the tenth time you see them, it’s entirely too late to admit that you have no idea who they are?”

They nodded.

“Well, my sex life is kind of like that. I started out just waiting for the next guy after Dan, but then a year passed. Then another … and then I started freaking out, like, oh my God, I’m twenty-two and don’t know how to have sex …”

“And then you inadvertently became a sex ‘expert’ and you couldn’t admit that you hadn’t had any,” Julie guessed.

“Precisely.”

“There’s no shame in it, you know,” Grace said kindly. “There’s no one right answer on the appropriate amount of sex.”

Riley reached out and patted her friend on the knee. “Says the woman who’s getting plenty regularly.”

“I’m serious,” Grace replied, “I know you love Stiletto, but you don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for for the sake of this article—”

Riley’s mind flashed back to the feeling of Sam’s hands on her. The sound of their moans mingling as they finally—finally figured out what the other person wanted. Needed.

“Grace,” Riley interrupted. “I’m ready. Seriously ready. When Sam and I were … you know … busy, I thought I was going to explode.”

“Yeah, I’m horny as hell myself these days, and it’s only been a year for me,” Emma said.

Grace looked at her curiously. “A year? What’s that about?”

Emma shrugged and picked at a mushroom on her plate. “Sex just got sort of disappointing there for a while. I thought I’d take a break.”

“But it wasn’t always disappointing,” Julie said, fishing.

Emma hesitated before answering. “Not always. In fact, it used to be pretty great.”

Grace and Riley exchanged a mischievous glance. “Saaaay … when you were with Cassidy?”

Emma’s lips pressed together in a firm line. “No comment.”

Julie sighed and helped herself to a bite of Riley’s tiramisu. “One of these days, you will spill your guts about what happened with you and the deliciously sexy Alex Cassidy.”

“Who apparently set the bar way too high when it came to sex,” Riley said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Back off, McKenna. This evening’s session is about you. We need a plan. Something to convince Sam that Riley’s worth all this trouble.”

“Hey!”

“Oh no,” Grace groaned. “Last time Emma had a plan, I ended up secretly videotaping a man in a restaurant.”

“A man who just moved in with you,” Emma said triumphantly.

“She’s got a point,” Julie said. “That stunt in the restaurant with Jake was kind of the start of a pretty epic love story.”

“I know,” Grace said with a smug little smile.

Riley raised her hand. “We can have both, right? Epic love and a good orgasm.”

“I bet Sam gives great orgasms,” Julie said with a dreamy expression.

“Hands off,” Riley said, stabbing a fork in Julie’s direction before turning back to Emma. “You. Talk.”

“Okay,” Emma said, rubbing her palms over her thighs as her face scrunched up in consideration. “You said that he responded to you bringing that Brent guy over to your family’s house, right? Like the jealousy spurred him into action.”

“Sure, but he also called me on it,” Riley admitted. “That card has definitely already been played, and I don’t think he’ll go for it a second time.”

“Which is why we’re not going to play the jealousy card.”

“But that’s a classic,” Julie protested.

Emma shook her head. “Sam is smart and determined, and even worse, he knows Riley. We can’t dress her up in sexy clothes, because he’s seen that and has managed to keep his hands to himself—mostly. And we can’t parade another guy in front of him, because even if he fell for it, it might backfire and reassure him that she’s moved on.”

“So the plan is …”

“We give him exactly what he wants,” Emma said, a satisfied little smile on her calm features.

“But what he wants is for me to go back to being a little-sister figure who won’t come between him and his best friend,” Riley protested.

“Exactly,” Emma said, leaning forward. “And you’re about to become the best platonic little buddy he’s ever wanted and can’t touch.”

“Oh, I like this plan,” Julie breathed. “He’s been trying for years to eradicate the sexual tension between Riley and himself. But I’ll bet he never thought he’d succeed.”

“What good does this do me?” Riley asked, trying to keep up. “I want us to become less platonic, not more.”

“Well, that’s the thing about men,” Grace said, catching on to the plan. “Sometimes they’re so determined to get what they want that they don’t realize they were wrong.”

Emma lifted her glass in a victory toast. “Yep. And when he thinks the sexual sizzle between you two is completely gone, guess what?”

Riley smiled in awe, finally understanding. “Once it’s gone, he’ll want it back.”

“Yup,” Emma said. “And even more important? He’ll fight for it.”

God, she hoped Emma was right. She wanted this to work. Needed it to work.

Because when she put aside her sass and her pride and her carefully crafted sexy reputation, Riley was just like the thousands of women Stiletto spoke to every month.

She was a woman completely crazy about a guy.

It was time to get her happy ending.

It was time to get her man.

Chapter Eleven

As it turned out, Riley had an ally in her oldest brother.

Granted, Liam didn’t know he was an ally. If he did, he would have canceled his business trip to Amsterdam and bought Riley a one-way ticket to a faraway convent. But as it was, Liam’s firm had landed a high-profile case with a Dutch hotshot, resulting in her brother being rather conveniently out of the country.

It was all the opening Riley needed to put Emma’s plan in motion, and Operation Don’t Mind Me, Just Think of Me as Your Sister was about to commence.

“Sam? You here?” Riley asked, opening the sliding door from his living quarters into the distillery. Apparently the man hadn’t learned his lesson from her last invasion and thought to lock the back door.

Of course this little visit wouldn’t end with a sexual proposition. Oh no. Quite the opposite.

Riley absently ran her hand along a wooden barrel, breathing in the now familiar sweet, bread-like scent. She’d never given much thought to the process that went into cranking out whisky, but she could sort of see how one might get enthralled with it. It somehow fit Sam … being out here alone with just the grains and the … well, whatever else went into whisky.

Or maybe not so alone, she realized as she stepped into the main part of the distillery and heard voices.

They were low, male voices, and she followed the sound until she spotted her prey. Sam was dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt—gray this time—and talking to a couple of guys she’d never seen before.

Her throat hurt a little at the sight of him—at the memory of what they’d been doing last time she saw him.

Right before he walked out the door and left her na*ed and aching.

For a brief second, she thought about retreating. She hadn’t been counting on an audience for this performance. Then again, spectators might work to her advantage. He was less likely to be wary if he had his employees as a buffer.

His shoulders went back at the sound of her heels tapping, and his spine went stiff.

Okay, so maybe he was still wary.

Smart man.

Riley had dressed carefully for this occasion, per her friends’ instructions. Simple black pants, a plain white blouse, and a formfitting black blazer complete with everyday black pumps that were professional without being stuffy.

It was the essential New York City work outfit that hopefully screamed, hey, you’re just another errand I have to check off on my way home from work.

Anything too sexy would put him on edge. Anything too far the other way would set off warning bells that she was up to something.

Although, judging from the deer-in-headlights look on his face, warning bells were going off regardless.

Don’t worry. I’m not here to seduce you. At least not in the way you think.

“Hey!” she said, throwing him a megawatt grin. It wasn’t her usual I-know-something-you-don’t-know smile, and she saw from the slight narrowing of his eyes that he noticed the difference. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Obviously,” he said darkly.

His companions weren’t quite as grumpy, and the tallest of the group gave her a welcoming smile. “I can’t even remember the last time we had a woman at ROON. Much less a pretty one.”

Riley gave a tinkling little laugh as she came to a stop beside the men. “Aren’t you sweet? And I’m so sorry to barge in like this. I thought you guys would be all wrapped up by six, but I should have called.”

“Oh, why start now?” Sam asked.

“I’m Riley,” she said, extending a hand to the shorter man on her left and ignoring Sam altogether.

“Rob,” the man said, giving her hand a quick shake after a nervous glance at Sam. “And this is Adam and Cory.”

“You guys all work here?”

“They’re trying to,” Sam said, his hand finding her elbow. “How about I give you a call later.”

“Oh, I can wait until you’re done here. I just have the teensiest favor to ask.”

Sam blanched. No doubt remembering the last favor she’d asked of him.

She gave him a look. You wish.